Foaming (1) on February 16, 2008 wrote:

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Asside from the stench of yeast emanating from the back, that of the staff's attitudes run a high-and-mighty second at this chaotic dive. Be prepared to be bumped at the bar, or tripped by rude regulars as you cross the floor with your barely-filled pints bobbing over the rim, in spite of your plaintive 'excuse-mes' which go entirely unheard by fellow patrons and staff alike. One barmaid excercises a particular disdain for credit card payments under a cetain ammount, by leaving you to wait long after you've signed (up to 8 minutes the first time), while she goes on to serve anywhere from 4 to 5 new customers. So much for the positive side of the Cato's experience.

Having tollerated this much over repeated visits to appease friends and once or twice alone to kill time while waiting for a friend, it seemed the food might be worth a go. A recommendation came, so we went out of ou way to try it one Friday after work. However, we were greeted with a rude awakening instead of a welcome as a reward for chossing this establishment after putting up with enough guff a our respective jobs for one week. The table never got wiped as promised, and the waiter seemed unconcerned about giving me part of my change (that is, only the part consisting of a $10.00 bill...), which forced us to pay for drinks with a card, and not have enough left for cabfare afterwads. This would all be forgivable to a point, had this bird not had the gall to doubt me whe I assured him that he had never handed me my change beyond 56 cents (the other part), which I proptly put in the tip jar with another dollar. But, I had to get up and return to the register to ask and hear him sya that he'd check the till later and call: not acceptable, fact being that I and my cohorts had spent our share of money in there before, and were due some conideration beyond the cold shoulder that was on offer. Returning to the table, I irately told my company that he had ripped me off, to wit a group of youngsters at the next table up and left (aw, wonder why...). Of course, this turkey came barrelling out telling me he'd give me back my money (alas, he did not mean my change, as it turned out), if I'd stop acting this way and another; but I figured since he had already ripped me off, contitions were not an option, nor was I going to stand for any insults to my party, and demmanded my change. I would not have minded his smarmy attitude, had he at least shown the kind of good-will many in the area are wont to show their customers and patrons, regardless of misunderstandings. But his snidely-entoned 'look, buddy' was enough to raise the Mongol Hoardes from the dead and set them on a rampage accross the Steppes (or lower Piedmont Avenue), where I was concerned. He could have shown some sympathy to a reasonable extent which some of us have had to use in our own professions more than once this week, rest assured. But hearing him call out accross the floor that 'this is not MacDonald's' (to wit I queried "and what is it then, the RITZ?"), suddenly put even that establishment one notch above his in my esteem. Asking to see the manager, it turns out that it was he, and when I asked his name, he informed me - and I quote - that it was "Get-the-***k-out-of-my-restaurant."

I called back, only to find him informing me - enitrely unapologetically - that the money was there and would be in an envelope taped to the side of the bar! Money asside, I don't know what I found more offensive, him hanging up when I politely counseled that he would loose customrs that way, or his daring to call me 'BUDDY' again before he did. So, $10.00 in drinks are on me, because you can have this place, provided only that you are boorish and unsensitive enough to enjoy it.... (not alll suds-addicts are, not by a long-shot).